She Said Yes
by thenostalgicdreamer
Summary: Nancy reacts to hearing that the man that she once loved is engaged.


_Warning: I mess with canon pairings here. If you think reading that might upset you, please don't. I wrote this to explore these themes not to berate on any pairings. I don't want any comments complaining about any pairings or lack thereof. Thank you!_

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 _She said yes._

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The message is simple—that single sentence with a picture of two hands clasp together with one of them wearing a basic yet elegant diamond ring. Nancy feels her heart surge and then fall in her chest. She takes a deep breath. He's engaged.

She has known that this was coming for awhile now. You wouldn't have to be a detective to know that. She is one though, so she has known that it was inevitable. Why wouldn't it be when he is settled in a good job and has met the perfect girl? He has always wanted a family of his own with a cute, little wife and adorable children. Why not now?

Her life is one of mystery and intrigue and by default surprise and shock, so she's not sure why she's taking this one so hard when it was the one she always saw coming. She sits down on her bed and tries to calm her racing heart. It's just so permanent. He's getting married, and it's a forever kind of thing. He's dead to her and always will be.

Nancy has never been someone who's relished the "comfort" of sympathy. She is tough enough to deal with it herself, thank you very much. But still this hurts. She knows she deserves no sympathy. How could she when she turned down his proposal? She was even fine afterward. How is that for condemning evidence? She was so sure it was "the right thing". Now, she is...she hates that word—heartbroken. Or is it too early to call it that yet?

This is ridiculous. She let him go. She was the one who said goodbye for forever, yet her heart is protesting. She commands her heart to get a grip. (It doesn't really listen.) She should be fine. She has gotten through two and half years of the intensity called law school without any emotional impairment. She's used to getting by with little self-care having hardly any time to eat, sleep, and relax. She is a hard driving person. She enjoys testing her limits and seeing how far she can go. Maybe law school pushes her harder than she likes, but she doesn't mind that much.

The point though is that she's a wreck. She feels the tears come to her eyes and wipes them away with an aggressive swipe of her hand. She tells herself to get a grip but instead finds herself remembering the glasses he had when she first met him. She had been so glad to see them go when he got contacts in ninth grade. But she's missing those glasses now and how cute and nerdy he looked—and how easy everything was then. He loved her, and she loved him. That was enough.

They had the best relationship in high school. There were weekly dates usually to the diner for the Tuesday night special or the bowling alley or the lake. Hannah usually invited him over for dinner once a week too. He was brave enough to not mind talking to her father maybe because he knew her dad liked him. After they cleaned up, they would settle down for a game of Scrabble or Monopoly often with Hannah and if he wasn't too busy her dad too.

She had talked to her dad and Hannah about her relationship many times over the years asking their advice. Time had blended all these memories together like colors in a kaleidoscope. Still, she would never forget dad's ultimate advice—when the time came that she needed to know she would. Hannah had said repeatedly that she trusted Nancy reminding her that she was so smart and wise beyond her years. On the fateful day that Nancy had turned down the proposal, she had been acting on both of those pieces of advice.

All of that had taken her here—crying alone in her little rented room in the city. She should be happy for him—he was one of her oldest friends, and he was happy. She knew that from the other pictures that he had sent her. He was truly the stronger person continuing to stay in contact when she was the one who had jilted him and decided it was over. She had always thought herself strong braving kidnappings, the early death of her mother, a difficult life; but she paled in comparison to him right now.

His little Nancy—the thought of his favorite nickname for her and the smile his face always had when he said it brought the tears again to her eyes. No one else called her that, would call her that. No one else would remember those carefree high school days, the double and triple dates with Bess and George. No one else is him. She's not going to have him; she's not going to have that.

It was her choice she forces herself to remember as she chokes back the sobs. It would be easier to remember if he hadn't gone out and found someone so much like herself. Maybe her hair is sandy instead of red, and she aspires to be a adoption lawyer instead of a detective. But she's a law student who was raised by her dad alongside a younger sister, and she's from a small town and enjoys adventures albeit of the outdoor variety. It's like he's saying he still would have been happy with her. She knows he's not. He's not vengeful like that, and he wouldn't mess up his life to get her attention. Would she take him back if she could? Is everything they had worth more than she thought it was?

The thoughts are hard to stop. She wishes her brain had an off switch, so she could climb into bed and switch off. She can't. As it stands, there's no guarantee she'd sleep especially with her struggles with insomnia. Even if she does, she knows she's going to spend all night thinking about Ned and Natasha and the life she could have lived. Tomorrow she is going to wake up and go to class and do homework, and she's going to think about them some more. Nothing she can do can change that.

Human—she's feeling human right now. How can she not when she's at the mercy of a feeling that she didn't even want to feel? She doesn't like feeling human and being reminded that just like everyone else she is vulnerable. She has built up the strongest, tallest walls, but this has crept under her armor and pierced her heart. It's a reminder that she is not as strong as she believes herself to be, wants to be. The one and only Nancy Drew is human despite every wish she has to the contrary.

With that thought, determination rises in her chest. She might be human, but she made the choice that started this chain of events. She did it because it was the right thing. She can't let a few waves shake her confidence. She'll survive. What are a few feelings but yet another chance to prove her mettle, to strengthen her heart, mind, and body? She gets up and walks over to her desk. Homework is waiting.

Author's Note: I wrote this to fit into the universe I established in That Nancy Drew. I'd love to know your thoughts on this particularly about my characterization of Nancy Drew since I sort of borrowed her/the storyline to write this knowing it wasn't necessarily a perfect fit.


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